


First Kiss

by Wu_the_Stoic



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: M/M, ZaDr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wu_the_Stoic/pseuds/Wu_the_Stoic
Summary: Full contact flirting.





	First Kiss

The thunder of students as they poured into their first period class droned like an angry pack of bees. Monday mornings were always the bane of teachers when summer was this close and today was no better. Dark clouds were slowly filling the sky, promising those late spring storms all day and coupled with impending freedom, the students were approaching unreasonable.

This is probably why Mr. Mansater liked a little bourbon in his coffee when he got home.

Dib was the last to enter the classroom, casually ignoring the steady hum of chatter as he strolled to his seat. Next to him, on his right and just one desk ahead of him, sat Zim. The alien looked bored as he waited for this day to finally end.

 _Why does he come to school anyway?_ Dib thought to himself as he took his seat. He glowered at the back of Zim’s head. At least his wig was better. It was messier and longer, framing his face nicely and giving his features a more human appeal. In fact, Zim had grown over the years. He wasn’t as impressive in height as Dib, who stood at roughly six and a half feet tall, but he _had_ grown. His body was slender, curved in all the right places that made Dib think of a jaguar in the dark jungle, hiding above his prey and ready to pounce. Lithe and athletic and… _alien_.

Dib frowned. So what did _he_ care about Zim’s physique? He didn’t, that’s what. Narrowing his eyes, he decided to pin them on Zim’s PAK. How much taller did those pesky little spider legs make him now? And how much mischief would the Irken be now that he’d been on earth for how long? Five, six years? Certainly he had a better grasp of things on this planet. He was still staring sullenly at Zim when his unwitting subject abruptly turned in his seat, narrowed his eyes, and thumped a square of paper at him. It landed neatly upon his desktop. Reaching out, Dib grasped it and unfolded it with fingers that decided to tremble minutely, and read the message.

_Don’t pretend that I can’t feel your disgusting human eyes on me. If you don’t stop staring at me, I’m going to rip them out of your ginormous skull and eat them like grapes. It won’t be the first time, Dib filth. Try me._

Zim had pristine handwriting.

Frowning, Dib tore out a fresh sheet of paper, and then made a square out of that. He scribbled a single sentence upon it and then cast his gaze up. The teacher was currently digging through his desk, so under the pretense of needing to sharpen his pencil, Dib rose, grasped the square of paper, and approached Zim. When he reached him, he brought his hand down, and then sharply up, where his palm connected firmly to the back of the alien’s skull with a satisfying snap. Zim yelped quietly and turned in his seat, holding the back of his head in both hands while glaring murder at the audacity of the human who had returned a note of his own to his desktop. Zim made no move to read it as he continued to glare sullenly at Dib who simply smiled at the teacher who had lifted his head and pinned the boys with a sharp look at the sudden distubance, and then finally sharpened his pencil.

 _My head’s not big!_ The note read. Zim scowled and tucked it away into his pocket before hunkering down to finish staring off uninterrupted into space.

“Alright, class,” Mr. Mansater suddenly spoke up. “The last day of school is Friday, and as we all know, we’ve all checked out. There’s no point in handing out homework because life has taught me one thing; students rarely do their homework on the last week of school. So, I’ve decided that today we’re going to turn in textbooks. Hang on!” he called as the teens suddenly made a scramble to get up and bring their books forward.

“Just hang on a second. I want you to go through your text books and erase all the marks you’ve put in this year. For the pages you’ve dog-eared, I want you to smooth them out and at the end of the class, I’ll call your name by alphabetical order and you can bring them to my desk.”

A collective groan answered him, but it was mostly good natured. They’d been turned loose more or less.

“However,” he added loudly. “I’m still grading and attendance will be counted, so don’t even think about skipping. If I can’t skip, you can’t either.”

This was met with laughter.

Dib had a feeling that this was going to be the protocol for the rest of his classes and he was fine with that. He was already planning ahead for next week. There was a group that had organized a meeting so they could go explore an old abandoned factory on the edge of town that was purported to be haunted. He had been the first person they had asked and delighted, he’d accepted. Hunkering down, he filed through page after page in his text book, smoothing out top corners and erasing little doodles he had made during the year.

“Zonault, Zim.”

Dib’s head shot up. “What? Wait! No! You can’t do it in reverse!”

“He was the first one finished, so I decided to go backwards,” Mr. Mansater said blandly.

Zim rose from his desk, turning to give Dib a superior smirk before heading to the front of the class to hand in his book. When he returned, he slid into his seat and gave Dib another one of those haughty looks.

“Xavier, Donovan.”

Letting out an explosive breath, Dib lowered his head, resting his chin upon his desk as he bounced his knee rapidly.

“Wilson, Ryan.”

A folded piece of paper bounced onto the floor at Dib’s right toe, and he reached down, swiftly grasping it between his fingers. Keeping his head down, he unfolded it on his lap and then frowned.

 _I win again, Earth smell. I thought you’d be used to that by now_. To add insult to injury, Zim had drawn a little heart at the end of the sentence. Dib fumed as he refolded the paper and jammed it into his pants pocket.

“Rodgers, Billy.”

The rest of the class was spent with Dib scowling at Zim and Zim pointedly ignoring him. Finally, his name was called.

“Membrane, Dib.”

He slipped out of his seat and headed down the aisle, counting himself rather graceful as he staggered and pinwheeled one arm for balance after tripping over Zim’s foot. Kids chuckled at his display, but he handed in his book and then turned quickly, his soft brown eyes hot as they locked with faux blue. Zim lowered his head slightly, just enough to give his smile a sinister flavor as Dib approached his seat.

“you suck,” Dib breathed as he passed by Zim, and once again, he did a little dance to keep from face planting in the aisle between their desks. He turned abruptly and sank quickly in his seat, where he resumed glaring at the back of Zim’s head. Another note skittered his way and he was quick to snatch it up and read it.

 _And you swallow_. Dib snarled in rage.

A few minutes after the last student had turned in their book, the bell rang. The class rose quickly and darted for the door, Zim included. Dib watched him go with an annoyed expression on his face before rising himself and heading to his second period class.

The second period English teacher decided that she would wrap up the week by having the class watch Jane Austen classics. She had the students line up and turn in their books without worry of whether or not they were devoid of scribbles or dog ears. When they had returned to their seats, she turned down the lights and hit the play button on the DVD player. When Sense and Sensibility came on, a collective of groans echoed through the room. Dib simply put his head down, resting his chin once more upon his desktop as he stared at the dry erase board. In fifty minutes, he would be out of the door, heading to third period, which was actually one of the more enjoyable ones. Art History.

In this class, Zim sat directly behind him. Dib could sense the alien’s eyes as they drilled into him and it made him want to squirm, but he refused to give Zim the pleasure. It dawned on him that this was how he must have made him feel in first period, but he didn’t care. Dib wasn’t the alien here, Zim was! Zim deserved to squirm in his humble opinion. Dib jumped when a folded square of paper bounced off his shoulder and plopped against his right wrist. He made no haste unfolding it and reading the message.

_I would love to watch this movie to pass the time in this horribly boring class, but I find that I am simply unable to because your GINORMOUS MOUNTAIN OF A HEAD is blocking my view._

Frowning, Dib tore out a fresh piece of paper, writing furiously upon it, and then folding it up. Without even gauging its trajectory, he flicked his wrist and let it fly over his shoulder. If Zim wanted to read his rebuttal badly enough, he could get out of his seat to do so if need be.

Zim smirked as the note skittered neatly across his desk and he casually unfolded it to read.

_My head’s not big, you stupid space lizard! Besides, I’ve got my head **down**. You’re just being a diva._

“ow!” Dib hissed and then sat up quickly. He turned to pin Zim with a look. “What was that?” he hissed.

Giving him an expression of pure innocence, Zim lifted his hands and shrugged grandly. Dib glowered at him for a long moment before slowly turning to face forward. Moments later, he spun his upper body around quickly, glaring at Zim as if expecting to catch him in the middle of mischief. Zim simply looked at him with wide-eyed innocence once again. With a huff, Dib turned and slouched back in his seat.

 _Poor paranoid Dib. What’s wrong?_ The note read that bounced onto his desk. Dib turned and pointed at Zim before their teacher called his name.

“Dib, no talking during the movie, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighed as he faced front yet again. He glanced at the clock. Only forty minutes of this class left. Zim’s low devious laugh sent his hackles up immediately. He perked up when a thought came to him, and quickly, he scrambled to write a reply. Tossing the square of paper over his shoulder, he hunkered down once again, a tiny little smirk pulling up the left corner of his mouth.

Zim opened the piece of paper.

_At least I’m not short, shrimp-boy_

It was the perfect comeback and it resulted in the textbook result. Zim’s shriek of rage triggered a domino effect with the other students, causing them to cry out in alarm. Their teacher began to clap her hands before scrambling to pick up the remote so she could pause the movie, all the while trying to contain the classroom that decided that this was the best trigger to grow rowdy.

“Zim!” she cried over the din before clapping her hands again in an effort to restore order. “Outside, right now! You can spend the rest of the period sitting in the hallway and thinking about your disruptive behavior! I don’t care that Friday is our last day, people!” she turned to let the rest of the kids have it. “I will not have these sorts of outbursts!”

Zim rose stiffly from his seat, and as he passed by Dib, he suddenly began to stagger and pinwheel his arms. Regaining his balance quickly, he spun around to pin the human with a horrid glare before backing towards to the door.

“I’ll get you for this, Dib,” he mouthed out while Dib continued to smirk at him smugly as he pulled his foot back in from the aisle.

“Now, Zim!”

The door slammed shut behind the irate Irken and order was finally restored to a semblance of normality for the rest of the period.

Dib was careful, bordering on paranoid when he left the classroom, lest a wayward boot slip between his own feet as he exited the door, but he realized that there was nothing to worry about. Zim had already disappeared into the crowd after the bell had rang.

“This can’t end well,” Dib murmured as he headed to his lockers. He turned his head about as he walked, trying to spy the alien but Zim was nowhere to be found. That would have brought relief to anyone who didn’t know him as well as he did. Dib’s stomach began to knot as he approached his lockers and for a brief moment, he considered having some poor unsuspecting soul pull the door open for him, but decided against it.

He braced himself as he unlocked the door, and then moved quickly out of the way after jerking it open, which in turn rewarded him with some very strange looks from other students. Peering inside proved that there were no ugly surprises awaiting him. No explosions, nothing dead, nothing squirming, and slimy with tentacles. So far, so good. He grabbed his Art History book, slammed the door, and headed to class.

“A smaller man would have said he got away with it,” he told himself as he went up to the second floor. “A smaller man wouldn’t have been stupid enough to peg him on his height, either…”

“He’s going to kill you, you know,” Gaz said casually as she walked up the steps with him.

“Oh, I know. I know. But it’s worth it.”

“Yeah,” she said and then smiled. “And I thought Monday’s sucked.”

“Wait… are you in the know about something that I’m not?” Dib asked after pausing for a moment at her ominous words.

“No, but I know you two. I’ve seen your epic battles play out. This… is going to be good.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Dib said as they reached the second floor and came out into the hallway. “I mean, it’s just us blowing off ste--…” his head rocked hard to the side as a numbing pain began to bloom along his cheek and shoulder. He staggered two steps back and then put his free arm up in defense.

“How **dare** you call me short!” Zim bellowed with enough passion that his voice broke in places. Dib took a long moment to realize what had just happened; the little bastard had cold cocked him with his Art History book.

“What is wrong with you, Zim!” Dib yelled back. Students milling about in the hallway began to meander towards the two, probably in hopes of seeing a good fight.

Still clutching the book in both hands, Zim stepped up to Dib and openly seethed at him. His chest rose and fell as he snarled up into the human’s face.

“I… am not… short,” he growled, making sure Dib saw the row of fangs. Dib, not happy about being bitch slapped with a text book, lowered himself down until they were nearly touching foreheads.

“Yes… you… are,” he breathed.

Zim screamed in rage, but before he could lift the book up for another well placed strike, a teacher suddenly materialized into the mix. The boys were separated, scolded and then sent on their way. Gaz just chuckled after buying a soda, and followed after them. For the rest of the day, she shared classes and lunch with the two idiots.

Art History was more pleasant. They sat and listened as Miss Keith told anecdotes of her childhood and she let the class watch some television after gathering up their books. Zim, too angry to retaliate, spent the period scowling at Dib. While the storm was brewing between them, the one outside finally decided to break. After a heady clap of thunder startled most of the students into a brief moment of silence, fat heavy drops of rain began to splat against the windows. Zim didn’t even flinch, but continued to stare at Dib with cold calculation.

 _This isn’t good_ Dib’s mind whispered. He finally pulled his gaze from the Irken and went back to watching the show that was being aired. It wasn’t interesting, but at least it wasn’t daytime talk and it was doing nicely to pass the time. However, towards the end of the class, he realized that he was disappointed that he hadn’t received a note from Zim. He chanced a look over to his right and saw that Zim was still staring at him as if his eyes couldn’t tear away from the human who had dared to mock his height. Dib knew that perhaps it was going to physically hurt for having pushed the issue so far. He didn’t really see why Zim was so upset; he was five and a half feet tall. That was pretty impressive after all for an Irken, wasn’t it? Zim should be proud he had made it that far and should have taken the ribbing with a bit of grace.

Dib let out a sigh. When was the last time Zim took anything with a bit of Grace? He was the epitome of “Do or die”.

Class ended with another heavy rumble of thunder and students milled out, heading for fourth period, which was also lunch. He could feel Zim’s eyes on him as they walked.

Coach Haus greeted them with a grunt as they got into the room, pointing at the floor by his desk for them to drop their books as they filed in. Dib did so gladly, as did the rest of his class before sinking down into his seat. Whether or not they’d be watching anything was debatable; Coach usually liked to talk football with the boys. Dib hated football, and almost anything else sports related besides track. He loved track and did pretty well in it until he had a bad fall last year, which took him out for the rest of the season with an injured knee.

Dib recalled that Zim had been in the bleachers for that particular meet, and as he lie on his back in agony while people surrounded him, he remembered first a flash of rage thinking perhaps it was his doing that had caused Dib to trip and fall, but then he remembered how Zim had rose in his seat, an unveiled look of concern crossing his face until their eyes met. Then the expression was gone.

He jumped when a piece of paper landed on his desk. Zim sat across the room from him in this class, but his aim was impeccable. He opened the note and tried to read it, but it was hastily scribbled in Irken. Something about seeing Zim write in his native language was endearing to Dib. It was as if Zim had purposely lowered his guard and Dib knew that in that brief moment he was the only person in the world to have the privilege of reading Irken. Hand written Irken at that. He didn’t understand why it touched him, but it did. He carefully folded the paper back and tucked it into his pocket and then propped his cheek onto his palm as he stared at the door. Two minutes passed before another note smacked into his shoulder. He picked it up from the floor and then unfolded it.

_How **DARE** you ignore ZiM!!_

Turning and making a pretense of boredom, Dib looked Zim in the eye before yawning grandly. _That’s right, big boy, keep smacking that hornet’s nest_ his mind whispered, but he didn’t care at this point. Right now, a blood feud was starting to boil and he was going to see to it that he at least managed to walk (stagger perhaps) away from it. Shrugging one shoulder, Dib turned once again and faced the front, staring at the door. At least lunch was in twenty minutes, and after that, one more period before he could go home.

“Atta boy, Dib, just keep kicking that hornet’s nest,” he sighed to himself out loud this time as Zim growled deeply.

_He’s kind of cute when he’s angry…_

Dib’s eyes snapped open wide as a cold veil settled over his body. He was sure his skin had suddenly gone translucent so that one could easily see his intricate network of veins running just beneath the surface.

“Where… the hell… did that come from?” he asked himself in quiet horror. He could feel the icy beads of sweat that suddenly sprang out along the back of his neck.

_No no no no no… we do **not** have those thoughts about **Zim** **!**_

Risking a chance, Dib turned his head slightly, cutting his eyes to the left to look at him. Zim continued to stare at him, his upper lip curled back, showing off the primary fang. Dib shivered again as he came to the conclusion that yes, Zim was cute when agitated.

_I’m going crazy, that must be it…_

“Alright, let’s line up for lunch,” Coach Haus said, pulling Dib from his terrified thoughts. The walk down the hall was peaceful, but as soon as they got to the lunchroom, Zim pushed his way through the line, making sure he was standing directly behind Dib. Dib held stock still; not bothered by the fact that the Irken was trying to physically intimidate him, but because the wayward thought continued to plague his mind.

 _Maybe everyone was right, I really am crazy. There is no way that I am attracted to him. He’s such a jerk!_ He stepped up in line and staggered a bit when the toes of Zim’s boots caught against the backs of his own.

“Stoppit,” Dib hissed as they drew closer to get a tray.

“I’m not doing anything,” Zim growled.

“yes you are,” Dib whispered. “cut it out. don’t you dare scuff my boots.”

“I’m not doing anything,” came the surly answered, repeated just a bit louder.

“if I find one mark on them, I’m going to shove them down your throat.”

“oh I’d love to see you try,” Zim grumbled his warning.

Dib fought the urge to turn around and at least threaten Zim with a balled fist, but he knew better. He knew that as soon as Zim saw his knuckles, they’d both be a ball of assholes rolling about the floor in the middle of a fight. For some reason the thought of the high-strung Irken so easily triggered gave his heart a bit of a patter and skip. A pleasant one.

“Don’t sit near me,” Dib snapped as he paid for his food and stalked out towards the tables in the cafeteria.

“You couldn’t pay me to sit near you, filthy dirt-monster,” Zim answered and with a toss of his head, he stalked towards the wall on the left. Dib chose the back wall, the one with the large row of windows, and sat down. Gaz joined him shortly, her smile barely hidden as she sat next to him.

“Don’t start,” he warned as he picked up a french fry.

“I am having the best time watching you two idiots today,” she said. “It almost makes up for the fact that my batteries crapped out on me during third period.”

Reaching into his pocket, Dib plunked down two fresh double A’s and then hunched back over his tray. Pleasantly surprised, Gaz took them and then turned to look over at where Zim was sitting.

“You know he just wants your attention. And you don’t have to feed into him, right?”

Dib shrugged as he picked through his meal. “If I give him attention, he gets mad. If I ignore him, he gets mad. If I’m nice to him, he gets mad.”

“Sounds like love to me,” she said. When there was no response, she paused her game and looked up to her brother, who was still as stone and pale. “Thought so,” she said, and went back to playing.

“Oh, Gaz… I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Dib started, he even gave a little laugh, shaky as it was. “But you are so wrong. Just… the wrong that you are experiencing right now, if I could measure it… it would be on some… cosmic epic scale!”

“Yeah, right,” she said as she opened her soda while keeping her eyes on the screen.

“I don’t even think you know what you’re talking about!” Dib said, his voice wavering a bit. “I mean, sure, maybe today, for some weird reason, I… maybe… might have thought he was cute when he was angry, but that doesn’t mean anything.” He began to babble and she looked up at him in stunned silence. Oh, she’d had a hunch, but she was just casually fishing around, there was no way that she expected to land such a whopper, however, on her first cast.

 _Damn I’m good_ , she thought as Dib continued to ramble on and on about how Zim was a filthy alien, that same old spiel from time long gone. How Zim was evil, how he was a foul up, how he was a nasty tempered little space bug who’d no sooner blow up the earth than even give Dib the time of day. All the while, Gaz listened as she watched her brother trip over his words, first defending Zim, and then aggressively berating him.

Silence finally settled between them, Dib had uttered his last word and now sat staring down at his tray.

“Do you have any idea of how much denial you just spewed at me?” she asked.

“I’m not in denial, Gaz! Zim and I _hate_ each other!”

“Face it, Dib. You two have been flirting with each other all day like love struck kindergarteners.”

Dib opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but Gaz spoke over any protest he could utter.

“Longer than just today, actually. You two have been in some weird… courting ritual for at least two years.”

Dib turned his head away from her, working hard to swallow the lump in his throat. He narrowed his eyes and then grunted. Zim was gone.

“I don’t know what you think you’re seeing in this, Gaz, but I assure you that you are wrong.” His eyes cast about the cafeteria. “Dead wrong, I… think I need to get up.” Just as he was rising, a war cry startled the students into silence. Dib had a moment to blink before he was accosted by half of the contents of Zim’s tray. Mashed potatoes. Of course he would pick something gooey and thick to throw at the human.

Gaz wisely rose, tucking her game into her pocket as she lifted up her tray and moved to the corner of the room closest to the door. She sat down at the little table there, not wanting to miss the ensuing chaos for the world. Everything that happened next was almost choreographed.

Dib shook off most of the clump of potatoes and then lifted his own tray, wielding it as he ran towards Zim. He angled it and swung it around, letting his food fly towards the alien who was already retreating, but yet not quickly enough. Pizza smacked him between the shoulder blades as the remainder of Dib’s fries flew about him. Zim, turning, grabbed a cup of applesauce off the nearest tray, popped it open simply by tightening his grip, and then hurled it at Dib.

Dib lifted his arm, his eyes hard on Zim as the cup bounced off his forearm. Applesauce splattered, catching him in the face before he reached down and grabbed a container of milk. With all his might he threw it at Zim, actually striking him on the head where it bounced, undamaged save for a dent, to the floor. Zim reached down and grabbed it and threw it back to Dib, where it exploded on impact as the human turned to leap out of the way. It struck him on the back of the left shoulder.

“FOOD FIGHT!” a senior yelled and then all hell broke loose.

 

*****

 

They spent the rest of the day in in school suspension, and after that, an hour of detention followed. During their punishment, they were forbade to utter a word, and to keep them busy, the ISS teacher tasked them with erasing doodle marks and smoothing dog ears in returned books. By the time they were finally released back onto the unsuspecting public, their hands were cramped and they were cranky.

Gaz was sitting on the steps waiting for them when the door finally banged open. Not a word was spoken; the only sound was the doors popping open and the heavy thudding of boots as they tramped down the steps. She let out a yelp of surprise as pain suddenly flared up onto the backs of her ears; both of them had been thumped them in tandem as the boys passed her. When they reached the sidewalk, they turned, standing chest to chest… sort of. Zim rose up gracefully onto the balls of his feet with his fists clenched at his sides, Dib leaned down, his lips pulled back into a snarl and they glared. Violence was in the air, heady and full like a good beer just waiting to intoxicate its imbiber. Dib moved further down as Zim stretched up and they were so close, that when Dib licked his lips, the tip of his tongue slowly traced along Zim’s lower lip.

It was just an off the cuff remark, she didn’t think they’d actually do it. “Just kiss already! I want to go home!”

She had never seen anyone lock lips so passionately, yet glare at each other with such anger filled vehemence at the same time. They stood, chest to chest, heads tilting just enough to fit their mouths more perfectly. Arms were jutted straight down, ending in fists that shook with rage. Dib deepened the kiss first, supposedly before Zim had the chance, and of course he overreacted in his attempt to outdo it.

Gaz stared at them in open disbelief. “Are those two idiots… fight kissing?”

At least the storm had cleared off, leaving behind tattered clouds in the sky above and a gentle breeze that ruffled Gaz’s hair. She shook her head slowly and rose, walking away from the morons who still had a lot of life to figure out.

 

 

 


End file.
